


curious and beautiful (to seekers after it)

by lovelylogans



Series: 13 days of halloween [11]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Agatha Christie - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, en-gay-gement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-11 18:31:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21226151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylogans/pseuds/lovelylogans
Summary: Roman ispainfullyaware that his fiancé doesn’t put much stock into Halloween.He’ll drink the apple cider that Roman buys on his grocery trips, and he tolerates the decorations that Roman strews throughout their living room with reckless abandonment, and he partakes in candy, if anyone offers him a piece, though that’s mostly because Logan has a secretly raging sweet tooth that Roman hadn’t evenknownabout until they moved together.But Halloween itself? Logan will sit with Roman as he passes out candy, but most of the time he’ll read a book as Roman entertains the kids. He’ll go to parties with Roman. He listens to Roman’s pitches for costume ideas (and, later,couplescostume ideas) but he refutes most of them and he wears regular clothes or the least effective costume he can—most of the time, he just keeps on the white lab coat he has from work and deadpans that he’s a scientist whenever someone asks, even though he isliterally a scientistin his day-to-day life so it’s not like he’s dressing up atall.





	curious and beautiful (to seekers after it)

**Author's Note:**

> _“The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to seekers after it.”_  
―agatha christie, _the murder of roger ackroyd _  
this is for the 13 days of halloween prompt over at [@sanderssidescelebrations!](erssidescelebrations.tumblr.com/post/187843455281/sanders-sides-spooky-month) today’s prompt is **couples costumes!**

Roman is _painfully_ aware that his fiancé doesn’t put much stock into Halloween. 

He’ll drink the apple cider that Roman buys on his grocery trips, and he tolerates the decorations that Roman strews throughout their living room with reckless abandonment, and he partakes in candy, if anyone offers him a piece, though that’s mostly because Logan has a secretly raging sweet tooth that Roman hadn’t even _known_ about until they moved together and he’d discovered the massive stash of suckers and jolly ranchers that Logan almost always has in his mouth, while they’re at home—now Roman’s so used to him tasting like artificial cherry (which is Roman’s favorite) or blue raspberry (which is Logan’s favorite) or strawberry or grape or green apple or any other number of flavors now that sometimes it’s a shock when he kisses Logan in the morning or at night and he tastes like coffee or minty toothpaste and _not_ something sweet.

But Halloween itself? Logan will sit with Roman as he passes out candy, but most of the time he’ll read a book as Roman entertains the kids. He’ll go to parties with Roman. He listens to Roman’s pitches for costume ideas (and, later, _couples_ costume ideas) but he refutes most of them and he wears regular clothes or the least effective costume he can—most of the time, he just keeps on the white lab coat he has from work and deadpans that he’s a scientist whenever someone asks, even though he is _literally a scientist_ in his day-to-day life so it’s not like he’s dressing up at _all._

When Roman walks into the house, dropping his bag at the door and kicking off his shoes and flopping onto the couch, letting his head land on Logan’s thigh with a theatrical groan, there’s a white paper stick sitting out of his mouth. Logan’s lips are red from the flavor of it, redder than usual, a shade of red that reminds Roman of long, heated afternoons on the couch or in the bed, but he is too _tired _to think of such pleasant things right now (that’s a lie he’s thinking of it right now) and Logan removes the lollipop from his mouth to look at Roman in an unspoken question.

"I’m exhausted,” Roman says, drawing the last word into five syllables.

Logan makes a noise of recognition pets Roman’s hair, scratching at his scalp in the way Roman has (frequently) told him he liked. It’s a default move, for him—Logan’s told him (in vague terms, but still) that he has certain social scripts in mind, like lines of computer code, or some kind of logic puzzle: 

_Virgil is talking about internet things I don’t understand again ⟶ discreetly note unfamiliar terms to research later. _  
Roman is ranting about unfamiliar Broadway musical ⟶ nod and ask questions to promote image of attentive partnership.  
_Patton is sad ⟶ offer a movie night.  
__Roman is tired and/or upset ⟶ pet his hair._

Still, Roman takes the familiar sense of comfort, sighing softly at the sensation before he squints at the small collection of candy on the table, and grabs for one at random, crowing in success when he sees it’s cherry.

“Stop stealing,” Logan tells him.

“What’s yours is mine, right?” Roman says, casting aside the wrapper and popping the sucker into his mouth, grinning at Logan around the stick.

“Not until April,” Logan informs him, and Roman grins even wider at the thought of their wedding (_THEIR!!!!! WEDDING!!!!!__!!!!!)_ and at the thought of being a husband and _having_ a husband (_HUSBANDS!!!!!__!!!!!)_ and just—the idea of marrying Logan makes him really_ happy, _okay.

He realizes, as he smiles giddily up at Logan and Logan’s eyes soften almost imperceptibly, in that way he does that always makes Roman melt, that that was probably his goal with bringing it up.

And when he realizes that, well, he can’t just _not_ kiss him, can he?

Roman crunches down on his sucker, smashing it into shards, and chews frantically, before he swallows and tosses stick into the trash. Logan glances at him in askance.

“Kissing now,” Roman demands.

“Hm?”

“_Kissing now,”_ Roman repeats, and Logan sighs, before he crunches reluctantly at his lollipop—Logan is one of those infuriating people who will almost _never_ bite a lollipop, sucks it until it disintegrates in his mouth—and meticulously wraps the stick in the wrapper as he chomps, setting it aside, and as soon as he swallows, Roman’s arching up.

He’s sure it’s an awkward contortion for Logan—it isn’t very comfortable for him, either, as he’s wrapped both his arms around Logan’s shoulders and is mostly hanging onto him to meet him halfway, as Logan hunches over Roman to press their lips together.

Roman shivers happily—the red on Logan’s lips _is_ cherry—and he feels Logan’s arms tighten around him as Roman nips gently at his bottom lip, and Logan lets out a pleased, soft sigh. 

Roman’s abs are starting to ache, and he’s sure that Logan’s neck probably isn’t feeling much better, but he doesn’t _care_ because Logan’s sugar-slicked, mouth open for him, and he chases after that cherry taste, kissing long and slow and wet, Logan’s lush lips moving against his all slow and wet and irresistible, Logan’s back warm and broad and muscular under his hands, so—

They part to breathe, and Logan says, in a growl, “This is absurd.”

“I agree,” Roman practically purrs, and tightens his legs around his fiancé’s waist before he flips them on the couch, so that they’re both lying down, Roman on top of Logan, and Logan’s hands slide down his sides and they’re kissing again.

This isn’t fully what Roman had expected, when he’d flopped down in his fiancé’s lap—he’d had a _game plan—_but this is perfectly good, too, their mouths moving together, with hints of Logan’s tongue like the tide washing to shore, and Roman wanted to _drown_ in him.

When they break, briefly, to breathe, Roman sucks in a breath before he grazes his teeth along Logan’s jaw, and he hears Logan’s shaky, almost-inaudible sigh, and Roman presses his smile into his cheek before resuming his path.

“You know,” he murmurs, into the curve of his jaw, “I was _thinking,_ today.”

“Were you?” Logan asks breathlessly, and Roman feels Logan’s grip tighten on his shirt as Roman mouths his way down Logan’s neck.

“Mm-hm,” Roman hums, and flicks a finger at Logan’s collar. “Can I unbutton this and undo your tie? Not to get you shirtless, but—“

Logan’s fingers fumble for his tie, and Roman laughs, leaning back to help—he undoes the tie, loosening it, as Logan unbuttons his polo as far down as it’ll go. Roman can see how his flush is starting to spread down his throat, and how amazing it is that Roman knows _exactly_ how low it goes.

“What were you thinking about?” Logan pushes.

“Well, _you,”_ Roman says, and bites lightly at Logan’s neck—not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough that it’s just about the way that Logan likes, and since he’s so close to Logan’s throat he can hear the stifled noise that Logan makes.

“Yeah?”

“Us,” Roman murmurs, and bites again, deliberate, frowning just a little when Logan _still_ doesn’t make a noisy kind of noise.

“Roman,” Logan says, and Roman’s gratified when it comes out slightly strangled, “if it’s about adopting a dog _again—”_

“No, not a dog,” Roman says, and draws back enough to add, “though I _do_ really think that you should rethink that, because—“

“_Roman.”_

There’s a hint of a whine in the name, and Roman grins, pursuing it, pressing his lips up against Logan’s again, in an unspoken apology for teasing.

Well. _Verbally_ teasing. This kind of teasing is just fun.

“_Any_way,” he says when they part, “Just—I had an idea.”

“An idea?” Logan asks, and now _Roman’s_ stifling the noise as Logan’s fingers twine in the hair near the base of his neck—not tugging, not quite, but there’s a definite _pressure_ there.

“Hear me out,” Roman says, and then he spreads a hand, as if imagining his words on a marquee. “Couples costume idea.”

The look Logan gives him is so exasperated and almost _pouty_ that Roman almost says “you know what, forget it,” and goes back to kissing him, but he stands firm.

“It’s a _really_ good idea this year,” Roman promises, and Logan sighs, which Roman takes to mean _go on, then._

_“You,”_ Roman says, leaning to press a not-quite-quick kiss to Logan’s lips, “will be Hercule Poirot.”

Roman can practically _see_ Logan’s ears perk up.

“All right,” he says, attempting to modulate his voice so that it doesn’t sound _too_ excited.

“And _I_ will be Dr. Sheppard,” Roman continues. “Now, I know you don’t like to dress up—“

“—that is correct—“

“But if you think about it, all you _really_ need to do is wear some slightly old-fashioned clothes. His description’s kept pretty vague, so you can just use most of what you got, and I found this _really_ great, kind of old-timey waistcoat at Goodwill—“

“How long have you been planning this?”

“—and, I mean, I could be Ackroyd, if you want, but I was worried that would be a bit too on the nose—“

“Why are you so attached to the idea of a couples costume, anyway?” Logan says, and Roman hesitates—long enough that Logan has definitely noticed—and Logan continues, “You’ve been posing the idea since we got together, but you’ve continually dropped the idea at a more elevated rate this year than years past—“

Roman’s lips twitch. “You track how often I ask you to do a couples costume with me?”

Logan flushes—well, he flushes a bit more than before—and grumbles, strangely embarrassed, “Not _scientifically,_ but it—”

“I love you,” Roman says, and pecks him on the cheek.

Logan pokes him back. “You’re evading the question.”

“I—“ Roman hesitates, before he reaches down, twines their fingers, and lifts his left hand, so the ring on his finger is directly in Logan’s line of sight. Something seems to click.

“Ah,” Logan says. 

“It’s just—“ and now _Roman’s_ the one who’s flushed, “well, we’re _engaged,_ now, it’s our first Halloween as _fiancés,_ and—“

“You’d like to present a united front?”

“Well, yeah,” Roman says. “Plus, I dunno. It’s cute.”

Logan’s nose, predictably, wrinkles. Roman kisses the tip of his nose, because _that’s_ just so cute. His fiancé is adorable and the fact that he gets all squirmy whenever Roman brings it up means that Roman is on a life-long mission to tell him he’s cute that much more.

“So?” Roman asks, voice a bit _too_ soft and _too_ hopeful. 

Logan hesitates, before he says, at last, “You’d better be Ackroyd, not Sheppard. That might be a bit more familiar to those who haven’t read the—”

He’s cut off by the enthusiasm of Roman’s kiss, and Logan laughs into the kiss, and suddenly _Roman_ is the one on his back, breathless as Logan looms over him.

“Oh, _detective,”_ Roman says, purposefully breathy. “You’ve caught me so unaware, and look at us now—you on top, me on bottom, why, you’re so _strong—”_

“Stop,” Logan says, voice edged in a laugh.

“I bet you’re about to start searching for _clues,_ aren’t you?” Roman says, and wiggles his hips pointedly. “I’ve got a clue that’s _just_ for you—”

Logan cuts him off with a kiss, and Roman laughs into it, and wraps his arms tighter around his fiancé’s (his _fiancé’s,_ _his _**fiancé’s**!) neck, trying to sample the last of the lingering cherry taste in his mouth.


End file.
